Don't tell me what to feel
by tuna-tier
Summary: "Did I ask you to help-" "No, but I'm fucking doing it. So shut your mouth and let me make you forget all the depressing shit." A/N: Not even sure I got their personalities down, but Ymir remains a douche canoe. I personally theorize that Christa can be a bitch under extreme circumstances. And I love beaches.


Christa was fucked. _Emotionally fucked._

If there was one thing she wished to run away from, it would have been her family. The church was probably the most controversial organization she's ever had knowledge of. Not only was her father the high priest of said church, but he also had mistresses. Christa was, unfortunately, the daughter of one of those mistresses.

She was always smiling, acting like nothing was wrong. She'd go hang out with Sasha or Mikasa, or Sasha and Mikasa, and just smile and laugh. But when she got home, the petite being acted like she was a bag of shit. In the mornings, she would wake up with bags under her sky blue eyes. Sometimes, her skin was so pale that she'd easily be mistaken for a ghost. Her kitchen was even covered with orange bottle pills.

Not today. She thought that for _once, _she could go outside and find something to do worthwhile. No use in hiding her true self when the gossip of her upbringing was starting to grow. So, she decided to go to the beach. One place she had always been in love with. The crashing of the waves onto the shore, the smell of the salt, the calling of the seagulls. The sun barely peeked out from the clouds.

Christa had worn nothing special, but a normal white dress shirt and a brown skirt. Her hair was let down, and she didn't make a bother to hide her tired features. What time was it? Too early for lunch, but she had managed to eat a small bowl of oatmeal for breakfast. She thought she was alone there on the beach. On her small towel, on the sand far enough from the shore so she wouldn't get wet. _But boy was she wrong._

Her thoughts had been full of nothing, just the noises surrounding her ringing in her ears. That is, till she had heard the noises of footsteps in the sand. The blonde turned her head in the direction and stared, gulping. There, before her, was a woman of tremendous height. Her skin was tanned, or even darker, and her eyes were a burning amber. Her brown hair was short and dripping, like the rest of her body. Amazing build, she thought; the stranger had muscles and her facial structures were just as striking. What she spent a little time on identifying, were those freckles dotting her cheekbones and nose. A black bikini top and board shorts of the same color too, and in her long arms was a surf board.

"What's a little kid like you doing out here? You lost?" Her voice was higher than Christa had expected, but it wasn't terrible to the ears.

The young _woman_ squinted her blue orbs for a few seconds and sighed. "I'm not a little kid. I'm seventeen, and I'm not lost," she stiffly replied.

Snorting, the brunette cocked an eyebrow,"Then would you quit looking so pitiful? It's kinda hard to surf with someone looking as fucking sad as you do."

"Feeling sad, huh… Well, I'm not going to say sorry for looking 'sad' because," she even used her fingers for emphasis on the word sad," that's apologizing for being real."

Still, the taller female wouldn't leave her alone. Ymir always had a knack for blondies, especially those in distress. The beach was where all the bikini babes were at, but due to the weather, she hadn't much success in wooing a girl yet. But here was one, whose height made her want to snicker. Yet even so, there was something off about this girl that made the brunette work a little harder. _It isn't for a date or anything_, she thought.

"I didn't ask you to fucking apologize, I asked you to lighten up."

"And I'm asking you to not tell me what to feel."

"Listen, pipsqueak, you can't go off dissing every person in the world that's trying to help."

"Did I ask you to help-"

"No, but I'm fucking doing it. So shut your mouth and let me make you forget all the depressing shit."

Christa's lips pressed into a straight line. Hesitating, wondering if she could trust this person. She definitely looked like the type who would both bark and bite. Her demeanor had changed from slightly concerned (with a hint of nervousness from what the blonde could tell) to terribly intimidating as the two had conversed.

She looked up at her and gave a sigh. Christa stood up; the other woman still towered over her with a cocky grin. It must've been because of the height difference, and as much as she had wanted to, the blonde refrained from wiping that stupid smile off her face.

"Christa. Christa Reiss," she finally said, her hand extended _up_ towards the stranger.

In turn, a bigger hand grabbed hers and shook it nonchalantly. But those eyes, they were probably scanning her entire frame. "Just call me Ymir."

The difference in sizes made the priest's daughter cringe for a second or so, but she quickly dismissed it. "So, Ymir. How are you going to make me forget?"

"Still working on that in my head," came the quick answer, and Ymir had barely any time to register what she said. "Shit. I mean…"

Christa chuckled, which made the brunette blush just a bit. "Why don't you just sweep me off my feet?" she laughed. _Laughed._

Her retort made Ymir scowl. Then, an idea came to her mind and a devilish smirk overtook her face. Her long arms dropped her board and reached out for the petite girl, lifting her up. Christa shrieked and flailed about, but much to her dismay, Ymir ignored her actions. The brunette carried her onto the shore. As she walked, the two submerged deeper into the water; the blonde was screaming at her, begging and pleading to be put down.

Amber eyes told her no, and when Ymir decided was deep enough, she dropped Christa into the water. She had wanted to be put down anyways. The Reiss had no time to make any noise and was bit into by the water. The ocean water filled her nose. She resurfaced and flamboyantly splashed about. And there was Ymir. Standing there with ease when Christa was struggling! The very nerve!

Small hands grabbed for the long arms and pulled her down, burying her in the water. Sand was never a great foothold. Even underwater, she was able to give the startled woman a powerful headbutt. Ymir made a gargled noise and threw her head back up into the water. Christa followed.

"The fuck wa-was that for?!"

"That's for dropping me, you ass."

"Oi, you just met me and you're calling me an ass?!"

"That's right. You're an ass!"

"Short stuff, I'd rather have you staring at my ass than calling me one." Such a rebuttal made the blonde blush.

"I don't stare at people's butts!"

"… So you're into tits?"

"No!"

Christa bit the inside of her cheeks and eyed the woman. She was a beauty in her own rough way. They had only been with each other for about twenty minutes, and she was already acting like a jerk? Seemed like her grandmother was right. The most beautiful of people have usually the shitty kind of attitude. But maybe… This Ymir person wouldn't be as bad. Surely, she's too flashy for Christa's tastes, but wasn't Christa the one who locked herself out from the world?

"Midget, you okay? You've been staring at me." Her words were quiet, but she heard them over the waves.

"Yeah… Sorry… Can I ask you something?"

Ymir rose a curious eyebrow and shrugged. "You just did."

"You know what I mean…" whined the girl.

"Go ahead."

"This might be too soon, but why do you act like such a… douche?"

The brunette scoffed. "I'm not acting, so there's a hint. All that's happening is me doing what I want. I'm living for myself."

_Living for one's self, _Christa mused, _must be nice._ Her thoughts were quickly cut short by Ymir's voice. "And that, Miss Reiss, is something I'm going to teach you how to do."

Sapphire orbs stared at the speaker, awed by her choice of words. Why did she feel so relieved by such a simple sentence? Comfortable even. Christa didn't like it, but before she knew it, water was being splashed onto her face. She gave a stifled cry and yelled out of frustration, returning the action towards the brunette.

Things went on like this for God knows how long, and they spent their day on that beach. They had a picnic, swam a bit more, even watched the sunset together. In that short amount of time, Christa felt like she had grown close to Ymir and vice versa. And even before she left, Ymir had her write her phone number on her bicep with a Sharpie, joking about how she'd call her and ask her on another date.

One thing was certain though, was that on this day, out of seventeen years of living, Christa had finally lived for herself.


End file.
